(no subject)

This is an ungodly hour of the morning. The sun's almost up, so I can see blue sky and the mountains, which is a consolation of sorts, but of Saturdays, I'm more used to letting the sun wake me by assaulting my eyes with a sledgehammer of light. I've got another two, three hours before that happens.

So I get home last night, and pass Lori, Gordon and Lucy on their way down to Red Robin for dinner - I can't join them because I'm meeting this guy to let him test drive my car. He liked it, which is why I'm awake now. Well, why I'm not crawling back into bed and making like a small burrowing animal.

We agreed to take it by the Bellevue Saturn dealer for service - get it aligned, and checked for his peace of mind, and then we dicker over the few nicks on the bumper he wants buffed out and blue book vs. dealer price and that little run-in I had with a snowy slope and a tree a few years back in Kansas and...

I'd be excited if I were awake - months of trying to get it off my hands, and it's so close I can taste it. Even past nasty just-woke-up morning breath.

Celebration

Speranza's newest is open in my browser, but first - but first! - I need to esplain. No - ees too long - to sum up:

Sometime in August I decided I needed to sell my car. I hardly ever used it - I bused or walked to work, there are plenty of alternatives. I waited until we were all moved in, and then put an ad in the paper. And renewed it. And renewed it. And lowered the price. And renewed it. And lowered the price...

And you get the idea.

Concert weekend, this guy calls me, we play phone tag, and yesterday he test drove the car. So. Definite possibility. And today - BANG! Sold. Woo! Victory dance!

Meanwhile, the logistics are bringing out my inner demon in scary ways. Gordon handed me an office supply catalog, and I enthused over pastel post-its in a growly demon voice.

I took the car over to Bellevue to get its 36K mile service, and they took five hours to get around to it (my fault for not having an appointment) and now I get to fuck around with the title and registration and the lien and paying the bank and writing up the bill of sale and...

I'm craving red velvet cake. And maybe Crab alfredo at Red Lobster, with those lovely little cheesy biscuits. Mmmm. Biscuits.